"You have acted improperly, Mr. St. John, both towards me and towards your brother. Pray, did you tell him that Adeline was all but the wife of another?"
"I told him everything," said Mr. St. John, firmly; "and he agreed with me, that for Adeline's own sake, if not for mine, she must be rescued from the unhappiness which threatens her."
"You are bold, sir," cried M. de Castella, a flush of anger rising to his brow.
"I am," returned Mr. St. John, "bold and determined. You must pardon the avowal. It would ill become me to be otherwise, when so much is at stake."
M. de Castella wheeled back his easy-chair as he sat, the only diversion from the uncomfortable straight-backed seats which graced his cabinet. "Listen to me," he said; "I hope finally. Your journey to Castle Wafer, as I warned you it would be, has been worse than profitless: our conversation is the same. No human entreaty or menace--could such be offered me--would alter my determination one iota. Adeline will marry de la Chasse."
"I have abstained from urging my own feelings," said Mr. St. John, warmly, "but you must be aware that my happiness is at stake. My whole future, so to speak, is bound up in Adeline."
"You do well not to urge them; it would make no difference. I am sorry; but it would not. This must end, Mr. St. John. I have already expressed my acknowledgments to you for the honour done me in your wish for an alliance; I shall express them presently to your brother. And I have no objection to confess, that, under other circumstances, I might have been tempted to entertain it, in spite of the difference in our faith. But the barriers between you and Adeline are insuperable."
"Oh, M. de Castella, pray reflect. I have been bred with as nice a sense of honour as you: I venture to say it: and I trust I shall never be guilty of aught to tarnish that honour. But I should deem it an unrighteous thing to sacrifice to it a fellow-creature's happiness, and she an only child."
"Oh, tush! Sacrifice!--happiness! These chimeras of the imagination are not recognized by us. Adeline may rebel in spirit--may repine for a week or two, but when once she is married to the Baron, she will settle down contentedly enough."
"You are killing her," exclaimed St. John, in some excitement. "You may not see it, but what I tell you is true. The painful suspense and agitation she has been exposed to lately, if continued, would kill her."